


SLIP SLIDING AWAY

by Queenoftheuniverse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Big Cock, Dirty Talk, Femme dressing, M/M, kinky times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenoftheuniverse/pseuds/Queenoftheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes home to find Sherlock stalking the flat and smoking. Not unusual. But what is it about THIS particular time has the normally not-all-that-gay Watson suddenly hot and bothered and well, frankly, all hard in his trousers and up for anything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	SLIP SLIDING AWAY

SLIP SLIDING AWAY

John slid the strap of his satchel over his head and let the bag fall with a thud at his feet. 

Sherlock did not stop his fitful stalking across the Baker Street lounge room, back and forth, long strides, puffing angrily on a cigarette. 

John froze, just staring...because although Sherlock was tall, and well muscled, and a man, he was wearing a pink satin nightie with spaghetti straps and lacy edging, and black thigh high stockings, attached to black suspenders. His feet were unshod, and the stockings were torn and ripped at the feet as if he had been wearing high heels but now had taken them off to ease his stalking.

He turned, and saw John. Staring. He blew out a stream of smoke and, as he did so, one of the nightie's skinny straps fell down his lean bicep. 

John choked on some spit even as his saliva dried up. He knew he had some kinks, he knew how much he loved holding down his partner, and dirty talk, and rope...but this...this! Did Sherlock know? Had he deduced? Had he guessed that this, a very manly man in feminine clothes, not even trying to be feminine at all, was the most alluring kink John had in his spank bank?

"Watson?" Sherlock asked, voice deep, using the most masculine term for one man to call another. His last name.

And then the insufferable git moved closer, the satin sliding over the tops of his thighs as he approached.

John made a very strange sound.

Sherlock was confused. John looked like a deer caught in headlights. Only...not scared, no, his eyes were fully blown, his lips parted and Sherlock could almost HEAR Johns blood pounding in his neck. He could certainly see his pulse jumping in his throat, as rapid as a rabbits.

"John...?"

"...why...?" John swallowed, hoping Sherlock knew what he was asking because he could not move, and certainly did not want to look anywhere but deep in Sherlocks eyes because if he saw the way those stocking circled the detectives defined thighs he might...might...may show Sherlock how very BI Not-Gay Watson was....for the right stimulus. 

"The slip, John?" Sherlock asked, bringing the last of the cigarette to his lips and sucking a little too long, turning slightly sideways. Johns eyes did not leave his. Sherlock slowly lent forward, his body bending to match Johns, a sort of weird Yin Yang. He reached around John to stub the butt out in the glass ashtray sitting on the kitchen table which John had backed into with out knowing he had even moved.

John took in a deep breath through his nose.

Cigarette, soap, and a flowering perfume. Christ...so male and female at the same time. John could hardly breathe now, and there was a roaring in his ears. He was aware he was trembling ever so slightly.

Sherlock leaned back then, studying John.

And John knew there was no hiding it now. If Sherlock hadn't deduced it and deliberately done this then he definitely knew Johns little secret by now.

"Well then Watson...." Sherlock said, voice deeper and eyes softening. "Isn't this interesting?" He took his big, long hands and put them on the front of his satin-clad thighs, moving the material up slightly, exposing just a glimpse of white thigh and where the suspenders held onto the stockings.

"Jesus...." John whispered, eyes watering with the effort of not looking directly down. He could see though..oh he could see just at the bottom edge of his eyes. The sight swirled in the excess moisture and added a sensual movement to an already sensual sight.

"John...I didn't do this for you..." Sherlock whispered, moving his hands up and down on his thighs minutely. "It really was for a case..."

John swallowed, blinking, but his focus was still on Sherlocks eyes.

"But if I had known, dear Watson...." He added, then turned suddenly and walked away. His usual walk. Long legged and stridy.

Oh but the play of satin over his arse, the flash flash flash of thigh and suspenders....

The detective stopped at the door to his bedroom, staring over his shoulder to John.

"That does not change the fact I will use this information to bed you." He said, then stepped inside his room, disappearing from sight "Come along Watson." 

John tore off his jacket, shoes and shirt in the few steps it took to get from the kitchen table to Sherlocks doorway. He leaned there and stripped off his socks, wobbling as he stepped inside...and froze again.

Sherlock stood beside the bed, hands on his satiny hips, head slightly cocked, looking at John with that deducing look on his face. As if he wore a suit, not a slip.

"Christ Sherlock...."

"I knew, you see, that it would have to be something special to interest you John." He said, voice quiet but deep. 

"Interest...?" John husked, voice dry.

"Sex, John. Interest you enough to want me." Sherlock said then, sliding his hands down his hips and delicately pinching the hem of his nightie. He moved it up just slightly and John's eyes were riveted. "I figured after a while it was something left of centre. A kinky thing. I had no idea it was this...or I would have done this weeks ago..." 

"What...why?" John asked, then licked his lips, absently rubbing his hand over his naked belly. Sherlocks eyes dipped down to watch and then back up, still lifting the hem.

"Because I want you John." He said. "I've wanted you for ages...."

John took two steps forward and gripped one of his hands over one of Sherlocks thin but strong wrists. He had to stop him...doing stuff. It was almost too much! 

He looked up into his flatmates eyes and saw no trickery there. 

"You never said anything." He said, voice low in the sudden intimacy of this room, this light.

"Not Gay?" Sherlock stated.

"Very Bi." John said. "And yes, Kinky...this..." John raked a salacious glance over Sherlocks body, making the detective glow and shiver at the same time. "This is my very favourite thing..."

Lines be damned, flatmates be damned, future worry be damned. John took Sherlocks mouth with his own and kissed him. 

The kiss was magnificent, from the very first touch. Sherlocks lips were hot, almost feverish and plump, and Johns lips were experienced as he took control. Sherlock moaned and allowed him to, sensing this was part of the kink. The clothes, yes, but the control too. And Sherlock found he didn't mind. If he was ever to chose to loose his control to anyone it would be to this amazing man, his John.

John reached out and gently gripped Sherlocks hips. Then, he slid his hands around to cup Sherlocks arse. He moaned, and thrust his tongue into Sherlocks wet mouth, rubbing his hands over the plump globes, loving how slidy the material was. There was no friction at all. Suddenly John realised that Sherlock had satin panties on as well, and his moan was deeper. He dragged Sherlock to him and kissed him deeper. Sherlock responded by meeting John's tongue with his own, sucking and licking, trailing his hands down Johns skin to the front of his jeans.

He fumbled with the button, popped it open and unzipped John's fly before John grabbed Sherlocks wrists. Sherlock jumped a little, and the Doctor took his mouth off Sherlocks, moving back a few mere millimetres. 

"No." He whispered. 

Then he turned Sherlock by the hips and pushed him gently onto the bed. Sherlock found himself sitting, thighs slightly parted, looking up,at John. Then he reached up to trail his big hands over Johns smooth biceps. John grinned, and then Sherlock was falling back.

John fell with him, but he kept his body off Sherlock, using his stomach muscles and arms. Sherlock sighed with disappointment but was impressed with Johns strength. It made him feel safe.

John dipped down and kissed his black haired beauty again. A lovely, deep kiss, passionate but loving. Sure, John was on fire but Sherlock was scrumptious and John wanted to take his time. 

He carefully undulated his hips forward, making the unbuttoned parted fly of his jeans rub sensuously over Sherlocks abdomen. Sherlock was breathing deeply trough his nose and panting when John released his lips, only to plunge down onto his mouth again. It was tidy yet sloppy, and the teasing nature was making Sherlock needy.

"John...please..." He finally demanded.

"Mmm?" John asked, still running his zip over Sherlock. Sherlock could feel Johns heat.

"I need more than this..please.."

"More?" John rumbled, taking Sherlocks neck in his mouth and sucking gently. Sherlock moaned. Damn, that was nice...

"God...more..of I don't know...I have dreamed of this..but the reality..."

"Mmm hmmm." John agreed heartily into the silken skin of Sherlocks throat, and then moved down to the dark nipple peeking enticingly through the lace strip at the top of the slip. He sucked it gently through the material and Sherlock actually lost his breath. The tiny pain, the hot breath, the wetness of Johns tongue were true perfection. 

"John..." Sherlock writhed, and then arched a little. "God John...!" 

John skilfully flipped them over then.

Sherlock landed on John and for a second felt all of Johns compact body, before John was pushing him up.

"Straddle me Sherlock. Let me see you."

Sherlock willingly sat up, his knees beside Johns ribs, his plush arse on Johns upper thighs. John cast a salacious eye over the satin clad gorgeousness that towered above him and Sherlock felt damn sexy.

"Christ Sherlock..." Johns eyes blazed with lust and he rubbed his hands up Sherlocks ribs, gently, bunching the slip up to show the panties and suspenders. The knickers were a darker pink, and there was a wet spot in the centre, right at the top of the long bulge that was very obvious in the front. "I can't believe I have you like this...."

Sherlock arched his back, like a cat, and grinned. 

"What do you like, John. About this. What makes you so...hard for me, dressed like this?"

John arched a bit, his cock aching.

"I have always liked pretty fabrics. Stuff that feels nice. Silky, satin, cotton, linen, velvet. I love to touch it..." He said, still rubbing at Sherlock's sides. The flash of dark pink, black and creamy thigh went straight to his cock. "But just put it on a hard...strong...male body and it adds a certain...illicitly naughty edge."

"Do you like it on girls?" Sherlock asked.

"I used to." John said. "Until ten minutes ago. Now all I can think of is pushing aside the crotch of your knickers and having you ride my cock, those suspenders thighs gripping me and those nipples tortured by the rough lace they are peeking through..."

"Christ..." Was all Sherlock could say, undulating his hips and dragging the satin over his cock. Now John was looking at him like that, like he was precious and beautiful and perfect...it was intoxicating.

"You said it's for a case?" John asked then, ghosting his fingers over Sherlocks hard, satin clad cock. It was feverish hot and Sherlock shuddered. He swallowed.

"Male strip club. Solved it. Came home straight away without putting my clothes on..just wore my coat...needed to put some things in my mind palace, which is where you found me..."

"And before that...you said you had been trying to find what turns me on? Even though you thought I may have not been gay?" John went on, still gently stroking Sherlocks steel-hard cock.

"Yes. I bent over a bit in case you liked my arse. I got wet in the rainstorm remember, in case you liked bedraggled, and see through. Tightened my shirts in case you liked that. Wandered in a sheet, cut myself on that knife in case you liked blood, or fixing me, left gun magazines out in case you liked guns, ran my hands on my throat, tried different colones...."

John grinned, recalling each incident. He had notched them up to Sherlock being a tosser. He had no idea that Sherlock had been experimenting.

"Did you think to ask?

"Not nearly as much fun."

"Mmmmm...." John grinned, flattening his palm on Sherlock's cock.

"And you still took me by surprise..." Sherlock admitted.

"As did you." John agreed. "Now...lube? I need you Sherlock. I need you on my cock, riding me. And I need it right fucking now."

Sherlock widened his eyes, and nodded.

It was a struggle to fall over John to the bedside table, to fumble the stubborn drawer, to scrabble for the lube. But when he had it he sat back on John with a look of triumph and the flushing of his cheeks with slight exertion. John could not believe just how pretty Sherlock looked just then.

"Christo...." Was all he could say.

"What do you want me to do with it John?" Sherlock asked, his voice a mere whisper. John moaned a little, his hands still on Sherlocks satinny hips. 

"Take my cock out. Lube me up. I want me good and wet so I can take you with as little pain as possible. I want to take my time with you love, but I want to take you hard as well. I am not sure which side of me will win out."

"Take me?"

"Oh yes. A dirty term for a dirty act." John grinned.

"John..." Sherlock whispered, eyes full dark now and precious. 

Deftly, the consulting detective shimmied John's trousers and pants down to Johns knees. 

"That's far enough." John said. "Half dressed and desperate for you, you like that?"

Sherlock swallowed and nodded.

"There now love, I cannot wait to fuck you! You have me so hot and bothered..." John added, his voice still low and Sherlock was surprised at just how sexy it was being needed so badly. John's cock was full, and huge, and fat with blood, the head so wet with pre come it took on a shine of it's own.

"You're so big..." Sherlock whispered.

"I am. Make me very VERY wet baby, or I may not fit..." John winked. Sherlock liked being called baby. It seemed a bit...naughty...and that in itself seemed a bit...dirty.

"Okay John..." He whispered, popping the cap and getting two handfuls of lube. He wrapped both his hands around John's big cock and smeared the clear liquid all over it. John shuddered a breath, eyes on Sherlocks big hands, covering John's length. It was like Sherlock was a potter and John's cock was the clay, the way Sherlock massaged and played and spread the lube.

"Jé...zuz.." John hissed. 

"Mmm, good, John?"

"Very...."

Sherlock knelt up and reached behind himself. John realised he was smearing lube on his hole and grinned, and licked his lips.

"Good, Sherlock." He said, and Sherlock closed his eyes for just a second, in pleasure. He made sure his hole was good and wet, and then opened his eyes. The look John was giving him took his breath away.

"Kiss me, Sherlock, and then we'll begin." John told him.

Sherlock fell forward, and John took his mouth in his, a deep, wet, horribly messy tongue kiss that made Sherlock feel both dirty and sexy at the same time. 

John pulled away first.

"Put my cock in you sweetheart." He husked. "I want to feel the satin of your knickers and the velvet of your arse."

"Mon deus!.." Sherlock hissed. He reached behind himself and slid the crotch of his knickers aside. He then grasped hold of John's slippery cock and pushed the head to his furled entrance. He closed his eyes, and slowly sat up. As he did so, with his hand still on John's shaft, he wiggled the doctor's cock until the head popped inside his hot hole.

"FUCK!" John cried, arching and grasping Sherlock's thighs. "Oh Christ, oh love, oh Sherlock..." He panted, eyes screwed shut in bliss. He gasped wetly, his chest heaving, and Sherlock adored that it was HE who had done this to John. There was power in this, better that a hit, and better than solving a crime. 

Better than anything.

He spread his thighs a bit wider and John opened his lustful eyes to stare lovingly up at him. Oh yes, Sherlock could get addicted to this.

He arched like a cat and then slowly, one tiny bit at a time, took John Watson's huge cock inside his tight body.

John moaned loud and long, staring at Sherlock as he closed his eyes and parted those perfect lips. And then, Sherlock used his hands to part his arse and undulated his hips, just slightly, taking the last of Johns cock inside him with a quick slide.

John lost his voice, and his stomach hollowed. He was deep inside Sherlock Holmes and he was tight, and slippery, and hot as fire....

Sherlock made a strange sort of choking sound but no words could describe the absolute euphoria of finally having John Watson inside him.

Until John began to move.

"Oh!" Sherlock shuddered, feeling the fullness, the hardness, the bigness move inside his tight little hole. "OH! OH!"

"Yeah..." Was all John could say. He slid minutely in and out of Sherlock, the slippery friction making his balls tighten already. "Oh yeah..."

"John...I'm...this feels...oh!"

"Yeah it does." John agreed in a breathy voice. "Feels so damn good..."

John set a slow and even pace until he could feel Sherlock loosen a bit. Then he tipped his hips and pressed the swollen head of his cock JUST THERE...

Sherlock all but screamed.

"John, oh...OH!"

"You want it there Sherlock? My cock?"

"Oh yes!"

"Like this...?" He slid his cock over Sherlock's prostate gently. Sherlock nodded. 

"Or this?"

John lifted Sherlock up and pounded his cock in deep. Sherlock yowled, falling forward and grabbing Johns upper arms, which were holding the trembling detective up.

"That! John! That! Hard and rough and deep and...oh, there, right there please, that's perfect!"

John grit his teeth and began to take Sherlock Holmes apart with every thrust. He pounded into his detective like a piston,the hot sounds of Sherlocks desperate begging, the fist-tight feel of his arse, the satin and suspenders and lace, and John became desperate, chasing an orgasm he knew was going to be mind blowing.

Suddenly Sherlock was screaming and shuddering, his head thrown back, the column of his throat red and flushed. When John saw ropes of Sherlock's come explode out of the top of those perfect pink knickers, dirtying up something so pretty...well, that's what did it for him.

"Sherlocccckkk!!!" He roared, grabbing Sherlocks arse and ramming his gigantic cock deep inside as wave after wave of his own dirty come reamed inside the detectives quivering hole. "Oh oh oh oh oh..." It seemed to go forever. He forgot to breathe and his heartbeat thrummed. He could hear Sherlock sobbing in pleasure and his own panting breaths in his ear. 

And then it was over.

Sherlock collapsed on his chest and John had enough energy to wrap his arms around his trembling flatmate. Both of them were making wet, sobbing, panting noises and the smell of come and sweat was deliciously in the air.

When Sherlock could finally speak he said:

"So Doctor...any other sex-secrets....I should know about you?"

John chuckled, cradaling Sherlocks head and rubbing his cheek in the silky hair he found there.

"Oh my dear Sherlock" he said. "If only you knew..."

#

**Author's Note:**

> Finally did something in my fave kink, boys in girls clothes but not wanting to be feminine. I reckon John would blow my mind in a satin slip, but as I am always Watson when I read Johnlock I put Sherlock in the slip :)


End file.
